


It's Always Been You

by requiemofspirit



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Smut, Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23573275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/requiemofspirit/pseuds/requiemofspirit
Summary: You're leaving the Devildom in a month, and Mammon still hasn't expressed his feelings to you yet - but he knows he's running out of time.
Relationships: Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, mammon x reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 374





	It's Always Been You

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to take a break from writing solely smut, and wrote some angsty fluff and some light smut for my 2nd favorite boy Mammon (Daddy Lucifer is number one).
> 
> If you've read my other stories you know I've mostly written super-detailed, super-explicit smut, so this is quite new for me haha. I thought of this story in the shower and banged it out in a few hours. I couldn't NOT write any smut in, but it's definitely minimal.
> 
> I had fun writing this one, I hope you enjoy!

**_It’s you. It’s always been you._ **

Sure, Mammon’s been around for a while and had his fun. He’d dated a couple witches here and there, but never wanted anything serious. He was too busy enjoying himself, spending his little heart out with his precious black credit card, not caring about much else besides himself and the things he wants. He is the Avatar of Greed, after all.

It’s all he cared about...until you came along, that is. You came to the Devildom, and his view of the world did a complete 180.

 _Curse you,_ he thinks. 

Curse you and your ethereal, otherworldly beauty that makes it hard not to stare at you. Curse your soft, full lips that make him want to wrap you in his arms and kiss you until your lips swell. Curse your perfect smile, the one that lights up your entire face, and the way your eyes crease a little bit on the outside when you do. Curse the way you pull your hair into a ponytail, showing off your pretty little neck that he wants to pepper with loving kisses. Curse the gorgeous curves on that beautiful body of yours, and the way you tug your skirt down and wrap your arms around yourself when you’re self-conscious.

Curse it all...because you’re leaving in a month, and he hasn’t been able to tell you any of these things.

It’s not like he’s never had any opportunity to - he sees you every day, after all.

But he also sees the way you talk to the other demons. He hears the cute lilt in your voice you say “good morning!” to everyone at the breakfast table, your skirt lifting as you bound into the room. He sees the way you blush profusely when they tease you, like when you left your journal on the table and Asmo began reading a passage out loud. 

He sees you hug Levi and celebrate when you’re playing a game together and win a hard boss battle; he watches you and Satan smile at each other when discussing the new novel that was just published by your favorite Devildom author.

He sees and hears these things, and it makes his blood boil with envy. Mammon is the Avatar of Greed. He shouldn’t care about anyone except himself - hell, it’s practically written into his DNA.

But it’s you. It’s always been you. He was the first demon you made a pact with when you first arrived in the Devildom and to RAD, much to his chagrin.

You annoyed him at first, of course. Here you were, a measly human, yet everyone made a fuss over you. You broke rules, you spoke your mind, and almost got yourself killed a few times. Somehow, all these things helped you work your way into Mammon’s greedy, ice-cold heart.

He’s labeled as a _tsundere_ by Levi, the resident otaku, and he sees himself in every aspect of the definition. All his brothers can see how he feels about you, in spite of the many ways he tries to hide it.

And yet...you’ve always treated him equally. He’s insulted you, been an arrogant fool, and yet you’ve still welcomed him with open arms. Another thing he needs to add to his list of things to curse you for.

Lucifer announced that you have a month left at dinner, and Mammon felt a confusing wave of emotions wash over him in that moment. There was anger, there was sadness...there was a whole torrent of things he wasn’t used to feeling.

He needs to tell you how he feels, or he’ll live the rest of his thousands of years he has left in total regret. 

Even if it’s unrequited, he doesn’t care - at least he wouldn’t have to live with the anguish of never knowing.

Later that same night, Mammon lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His room is filled with material things - a pool table, high-tech stereo speakers and a projector, even a car on the upper level. He owns all these things, but he can’t fill the empty hole in his heart - a hole that will surely get bigger once you leave for good.

His D.D.D. charges on his nightstand, and he reaches over to grab it. It’s 1:15 in the morning. His fingers hover over your name in his contacts as he debates whether or not to send you the message. He remembers you agreeing to help Levi in a tournament later this week, and he hopes you’re still awake practicing.

Mammon’s fingers move faster than his brain can catch up with, and he hits send before he has a chance to hesitate.

_Hey Y/N - can you stop by my place for a sec?_

He waits in silent agony for a few minutes until his D.D.D. pings. Your name flashes across the screen, and his heart jumps in anticipation.

_Yeah. I’ll be there in a few. Just finishing up this match._

Your reply sends the torrent of emotions flooding through his body again. Mammon lifts himself up out of bed and walks over to his couch, waiting for your knock on the door.

It comes about ten minutes later, causing Mammon to leap up from the couch. He coughs and composes himself. He waits a few seconds before opening it, desperately trying to make it seem like he _wasn’t_ sitting around and waiting for you to come.

Even now, in the wake of the biggest moment of his life, he's still behaving like a _tsundere_.

You step into the room. Your eyes are as bright as ever, and your hair is pulled into a loose side ponytail. You flash a smile at him, _that gorgeous smile with those pretty lips_ , clasping your hands together at the front.

“So...what’s up?” you ask Mammon.

He opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly, the words won’t come out. He watches you as you tilt your head, looking confused.

Before you can even react, Mammon wraps his arms around you, pressing you into his chest in a tight embrace. Your eyes widen in surprise. Your arms are pinned to your sides, and you’re unable to move. But...you don’t mind.

 _What’s going on?_ you think to yourself, more puzzled than annoyed.

“H-hey, Mammon,” you say, then cough, trying to cover up the awkward stammer. “I can’t hug you back if my arms are stuck down here.”

Mammon stiffens, then loosens his grip on you, finally allowing you to move your arms. You bring them up and wrap them around his back, pressing your head into his chest. He takes one hand off your back, lifting it to stroke your hair. You close your eyes, savoring the comforting motion.

The two of you stand there, locked in an intimate embrace for what seems like several minutes. Mammon loses track of time, never wanting to let you go, his head resting against your soft hair. 

After some time, you step back and he lets you; he looks down at the ground while he raises an arm up to scratch the top of his head, a crimson blush spreading across his cheeks.

“I, uh, I-I...” Mammon falters, as though his brain is short-circuiting and he forgot how to speak.

“Y/N,” he says. He speaks your name so tenderly, so full of emotion you can feel your own cheeks beginning to sport their own lighter shade of crimson.

“Y/N,” he says your name again. “I-I...I know you’re leavin’ soon. A month. And I...I know ya probably don’t feel the same way about me. I’m sure one of my brothers stole your heart. Probably Lucifer or Satan, those charmin’ bastards. But anyways...I...I really care about you, and I-”

“Mammon.”

Your voice cuts through his stammered speech, and Mammon pauses, his heart clenching in anticipation of your next words.

“It’s you, Mammon,” you whisper, the slightly higher pitch of your voice betraying your calm demeanor. “It’s always been you.”

Mammon gapes at you, unsure if he heard you correctly. He’s praying he heard you right, heard you say those beautiful words he’s been dreaming of you telling him every night.

“You’re the first demon I made a pact with, remember? You’ve always told everyone how you’re my first man...well, you are.”

He watches the adorable way you bite your lip and blush, wanting nothing more than to reach his hand out and stroke the soft skin of your adorable cheeks.

He wants to kiss you so badly.

“W-well, ya couldn’t have told me that sooner?!” Mammon exclaims.

“A-ahem,” you cough again in a poor attempt to cover up your embarrassment. “It takes two to tango, doesn’t it?”

He laughs and, unsure of what to say next, decides to let impulse take over. He gathers you into his arms again, looking at you tilt your head up at him as he lifts his hand, stroking your cheek gently. 

The gesture is so tender, so soft, you feel your own cascade of emotions swelling up inside of you. You reach up and grasp his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. Mammon cups your face, then leans down to meet his lips with yours.

At the touch of his lips on yours, you experience something you’ve never felt before. The feelings tormenting your heart finally subside. As Mammon leans in further, deepening the kiss, you start to feel a sense of...

_Home._

So many times, you’ve heard others talk about love. They say when you’re in love, you feel butterflies in your stomach. They flit around, gripping your heart with a nervous, jumpy feeling every time you see your lover. They tell you that you’ll stumble around, falling head over heels.

 _No_. _That’s not what love is_.

This love you feel for Mammon is nothing like butterflies fluttering around your body, wreaking havoc on your heart. You feel comfortable, at ease. You feel like where you’re meant to be is wrapped in his arms.

You feel like you’re home.

At the touch of your lips on his, Mammon feels his icy heart thawing. Suddenly, he no longer wants things only for himself. No, he wants to give you his all - he wants to give you the world. Anything you want, he will give you, be it material or a piece of himself. He’ll give you his entire heart.

Mammon is unsure of how long the two of you stand there, lips and arms locked in a tight embrace. All he knows is that he never wants it to end.

You break off the kiss after a while, taking a moment to breathe. You inhale, then giggle, looking into Mammon’s sapphire blue gaze, flecked with pools of gold.

“I’m yours, Mammon. Yours and only yours,” you declare, staring into his gaze.

 _You’re_ his. 

He kisses you again, but this time it feels hungrier, more fervent. You kiss him back, igniting a fire deep within him. He feels your hips grinding against his leg, and a small moan escapes from his lips into your mouth. He meets his tongue with yours as you roll them together. He pulls away slightly, peppering light kisses over your jawline and down your neck, nibbling at the skin gently.

Mammon’s hands dance up the curves of your hips and waist, and you hook a leg around him, pressing yourself closer against him. He reaches down and cups your ass, then suddenly lifts you off the ground, carrying you towards his bed. You laugh, the lovely lilt of your voice like a calming wind chime ringing throughout the room.

Mammon turns, sitting on the bed so that you’re in his lap, your legs on either side of him. He feels you pull at his shirt, urging him to remove it. He obliges, his defined abdominal muscles on full display. You run your hands up and down the length of his long torso, delighting in the way the ridges of his abs move your fingers up and down as you do so. His breath hitches.

Leaning back, Mammon watches you as you remove your own shirt, the sight of your naked breasts bouncing free in the dimmed light of his room drawing out another sharp breath from him. His hands reach up, cupping and massaging them, then rolling the sensitive bud of your nipples between his fingers. He leans down, tonguing one and eliciting a moan as you wrap your fingers in his snow-white hair.

He tugs at your shorts then, starting to pull them down gently. You suddenly stand in front of him and nod, giving him your full permission to remove them. Mammon looks at you, _the beautiful sight of you_ , keeping his eyes trained on yours as he pulls your shorts and panties down your legs, discarding them on his floor.

You climb back on top of him, tongues meeting in a fevered dance as you grind your hips against his, feeling the hardened bulge at the front of his sweatpants. He reaches a hand between your sensitive folds, feeling how wet you are with your passionate arousal.

Mammon feels your moan against his lips, and the way your hands reach down, pulling his pants and boxers down until his dick springs out. He angles you forward with his hands, his length teasing at your entrance. You roll your hips over him, the wet heat of your walls clenching around him as you move up and down in a steady cadence.

Your bodies dance together as one, paired with fevered, passionate kisses as the two of you make love in a hypnotic rhythm. You roll your head back in the pleasure of the movement, your hair falling in shiny dark rivulets cascaded across your back. 

Mammon has never seen anything so beautiful before. He watches you then, your bare breasts bouncing with every roll of your hips, your beautiful curvy silhouette in the dimmed light of the room.

 _You are his, and he is yours_. 

And in that beautiful moment, you are together as one.

Your climax follows shortly after, leaving you gasping in ecstasy. He chases his own release as you come undone around him, feeling his heat as he spills into you.

Mammon lies on his back after, your head resting on his chest. He strokes your hair, feeling your eyelashes fluttering against his skin as you struggle to stay awake.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, cutting through the silence.

“Mmm?” you respond sleepily.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Stupidmammon.”

“Oi! I thought we all forgot about that stupid nickname from Levi’s dumb game,” huffs Mammon.

“Nope. Never.”

He sighs, starting to feel his own losing battle with the sweet embrace of slumber.

“Hey...can we make love every night ‘til ya have to leave?” he asks, running his hand up and down the curved ridge of your spine.

“Okay,” you respond. Barely a few seconds later, Mammon hears your light snore, causing him to chuckle. You’re adorable, even when you snore.

_It’s you. It’s always been you..._

Mammon drifts into sleep, happy that you’re his.

He doesn’t have to hear you say it solely in his dreams anymore.


End file.
